


Bedroom Hymns

by depaysem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A lil prayer kink sorry grandma, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blowjobs, Hair Pulling, M/M, Priest Kink, dirty!talking castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depaysem/pseuds/depaysem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based loosely of the song Bedroom Hymns by Florence + the Machine.</p><p>In which Dean has to pose as a priest and Castiel indulges in the confessional booth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedroom Hymns

Deans not an actor, he's a hunter. So you can see why he would be struggling here. "Here," being the alter of a church he and sam are currently stuck posing as preachers in. Somehow a demon had managed to make it onto hallowed grounds and terrorize the congregation (who still insist on coming to weekly mass). And they hadn't caught a break in two weeks. So Dean is stuck giving sermons and listening to confessions in full clerical costume while Sam skips this towns every couple days to go fuck a different goddamn demon. Typical Winchester month.

He hated every second of it, to the point of becoming nauseous every time he walked to the podium at 10am on Sunday's. Being forced to repeat empty messages about the love and compassion of God. Bullshit. God gave up on humanity, and on the way out the door had thrown the responsibility of saving the world onto the shoulders of Dean, Sam, and a fallen angel. 

Castiels feathery ass has also yet to make an appearance, much to deans annoyance. You'd think an angel of the lord wouldn't mind this job but as soon as it came up he left without so much as a goodbye. Besides, sam shouldn't be the only one getting some action (something he never thought he would say). It's just Dean now, which explains why is sitting on the (admittedly) wrong side of s confessional booth and trying to refrain from shooting himself, or the kid next to him snivelling and bitching about "sinful thoughts."  
If Dean is forced to listen to another person beg for forgiveness after confessing to having homosexual lusting and feelings, he won't be held responsible for his actions. But he cant say "you cant be forgiven for something that isn't a fucking sin," so the Lord's Prayer and 5 Hail Marys will have to do. After the kid left he was ready to lock up when he heard the door open and the grate between the booths slide close. Sighing deeply he prepared himself for yet another bitter old lady. He'd rather be getting hunted by leviathans than sitting here, suffocated by the closed space and stiff clothing. 

"Forgive me father, it has been a while since my last confession." A deep voice rolled out, and Dean sprang to attention immediately.   
"Cas?" What the hell was he playing at? I mean, it's not like they haven't done stupidly kinky roleplay before. Or back alley blowjobs, which happened the last time they saw each other. God, it had been too long.   
"I came to be absolved, can you help me with that father?" Deans white collar was getting tighter and hotter with every word. He decided to see exactly what game this was, and dropped his voice lower, dragging it through his vocal cords slower and more sensually. Raw.   
"What is on your mind, my child?"  
"I've been struggling with lustful thoughts."   
Dean choked down a moan, trying to clear his throat but his mouth had gone completely dry. And his pants had gotten completely too tight.   
"Everyone," he emphasized that word. "Encounter thoughts of this nature. Tell me, what do you find so wrong about these thoughts that you feel the need to repent?" He was shaking, wanting to just say "fuck it," break down the door between the booths and bury himself in Cas. The church might not believe any story about their substitute priest needing to break apart the confessional to give better deliverance, though.  
"I envision myself laying with another man." Castiel let out a shaky breathe that Angels don't need. With any luck he was half as affected by this as Dean, maybe then things would move along.   
"Tell me, my child."   
"I imagine him underneath me, squirming with the pleasure I am inflicting." Dean groaned and palmed himself under the robes of his outfit. This is so twisted, touching himself in a house of God, to the pornographic confession of an angel next to him. He had never been so turned on.  
"I imagine sucking his cock, making love to him, laying my claim on his body until the sun rises." He was breathing quicker now, but still maintaining coherent speech, something Dean had lost minutes ago. Dean let loose and moaned, rubbing himself off onto the rough bench below him, forming a wet spot on the sacred wood and darkening his sacred robes. Before he could finish, there was a creak and Castiel was panting in front of him, missing his signature trench coat but not his sex hair and dishevelled glow. He turned his head up slightly, and then he fucking smelled the air, where both of their arousal was mixing. Castiel once told him it was his own drug, that he could nearly orgasm from that alone. Now that Dean is aware of that, he thinks he probably could too. He dropped to him knees and slammed to the ground at deans feet, and pinned his wrists to his sides. Cas looked up at Dean from his flushed cheeks and with overwhelming blue eyes, and rasped;   
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."  
The fact that he used to pray those exact words at Christ himself and mean them wholeheartedly, and now they were directed at Dean, made him lightheaded; high on the sacrilege. Dean cried out and bucked his hips up, but Cas kept a firm grip.   
"Fuck Cas!" Not wasting time or too far gone to care Dean didn't know but all of a sudden the robes around deans throbbing cock were shredded, exposing him. Castiel moaned at the sudden burst of scent and licked a stripe up from the base to the leaking tip, and then back down the opposite side. Dean threw his head back and moaned, not even being able to comprehend how blasphemous this situation truly was. Until Castiel decided to put it into words.  
"How do you feel Dean? Dressed as a priest but sinning in your own church, letting fucking angel go down on you." He was looking at him hungrily, panted at his feet.  
Dean had regretted teaching Cas sex slang before, but all of that just went out the window. He doesn't have time to care about that with Cas working the head of his dick to within an inch of his life. This wasn't going to last much longer.  
"Cas either hurry the fuck up or slow the fuck down!" Man, he really shouldn't have given him a choice. Cas took his mouth off of his member and swung himself so he was straddling his lap, hovering above (but not quite touching) his rock hard erection.  
"I'm not going to do this on a Dirty bench Dean." Goddammit he was going to kill him.   
"I'm going to ride you on the altar."  
How Dean even made it past that he still doesn't know, maybe it was promise Castiel just made if (he could hang on). He couldn't think clearly yet alone coordinate movements, so Cas lifted him from the bench like a rag doll and nearly threw him into the wooden alter (why was that so fucking hot), leaving Dean moaning like a whore on a place where he preached the word of God not three hours ago, and Castiel couldn't have been more turned on by any other thought.   
"Ready?"  
"Please, plea-" he panted, but was cut off by a rough pull on his hair, sending tingles along his scalp. Dean moaned and arched into him, and Cas tightened his grip, adding just the right amount of pain.  
"Tell me what you need." Cas whispered into his ear, hand still pulling. He was on deans lower stomach, grinding deans cock into the cleft of his ass like a stripper who's rent is due.   
"Please, just fuck me already Cas!" He whined out, slack jawed and slurring. This was a dream come true-   
"Listening in again, Cas?"  
"I think it's turned out well." And with that he impaled himself on deans cock, riding him hard enough to leave bruises where his ass hit deans thighs. Dean gripped his prominent Hip bones and flipped Cas onto the top of the altar, angling himself and pounding into him mercilessly.   
"Harder-" Castiel choked out. Dean wrapped a hand loosely around the thick base of his neck, squeezing light enough so Cas could still moan around the pressure, and raked the other hand down his sensitive ribs. Dean shifted and bumping against his prostate with every thrust and they both saw white. Not three seconds later and they were both orgasming together, Dean still buried in Cas. They slid to the floor together, dazed and breathless. Then Dean groaned, realizing where they were.  
"We can't sleep here, Cas." Castiel signed but within a few seconds they were on a motel bed. Angel Airlines is a little slow when sleepy.   
"You're staying?" Dean murmured, tucking Cas into his side and leaning into his hair, already half asleep. Castiel turned and kissed both of his dropping eyelids.   
"Of course. Goodnight, cor meaum."  
Goodnight, my heart.


End file.
